


Release

by gloster_meteor



Category: Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Bondage, M/M, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 15:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloster_meteor/pseuds/gloster_meteor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the burden of leadership becomes too much for Dai Atlas. When that happens, Axe steps in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Release

Dai Atlas tugged at his restraints instinctively, gauging their strength. His military programming demanded of it him; even though he knew exactly by what and by whom he was bound and how impossible it would be to escape, he still needed to check. And, as always, he found that Axe had bound him securely. Ventilations increasing ever-so-slightly at the confirmation of his helplessness, he looked up at Axe, optics narrowing slightly. With all his recent irritation, he snapped, "Well?"

Axe simply gazed back, the hint of a smile on his face--mostly because he knew Dai Atlas wouldn't appreciate it--and adjusted his position on his partner's hips, shifting his aft against Dai Atlas' pelvis. Both of them were very well aware that the larger mech was here of his own volition--that he  _needed_  this, much as he’d like to deny it. They had a purpose in this, though it by no means preempted the potential for pleasure.

Seconds ticked by, and when it finally became overwhelmingly clear to Dai Atlas that Axe had no intention of answering him, he growled in response. Part of him enjoyed the weight of his mate’s frame on top of his, but it was greatly outweighed by a second, anticipatory part of him. If Axe would just get  _on_ with it-- He didn’t have the leverage to buck Axe off, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

“Are you just going to sit there  _grinning_ , or are you actually going to  _do_  something?” he griped, shifting restlessly, his own patience wearing thin long before the smaller mech’s.

“Maybe I like the way you look like this,” Axe replied, his smile slowly spreading across his face. He didn’t move, though, content to stay exactly where he was. “Maybe I’ll just watch you all night. There’s nothing you can do to stop me.” Both of them knew it was unlikely he’d do so, though. Axe had wrestled Dai Atlas into this position, taking advantage of his stress-induced lack of focus, and the blue triplechanger wouldn’t be moving until Axe had forced him to submit completely.

That in mind, Axe continued to watch his mate, optic ridges rising in a challenging, taunting stare, to which Dai Atlas responded with a snarl, yanking at his restraints. He wanted nothing more than to surge beneath his black and gold lover, to take control and flip them over, to sink his spike into Axe, to prove he wasn’t as impotent as he felt--both in the berth right now and as a leader. And while Axe would normally deeply enjoy the show of force and possession, it wasn’t why they were here right now, like this.

Axe shifted again, rubbing his interface panel against his bound mate’s, chuckling when the motion provoked a growl and a jerk of Dai Atlas’ hips. Deciding to take pity on the blue mech, he leaned forward, pressing his knees against his mate’s sides to balance himself as he placed his hands strategically on wide wings flared in arousal and  _want_. As he ran fingertips across the sensitive control surfaces, he murmured half-teasingly, half-seriously into the blue mech’s audial, “Let  _go_ , Dai.” It was what he wanted in the end, of course, but far too early to expect Dai Atlas to comply.

The response, unsurprisingly, was yet another growl--though this one was interrupted partway-though by a sharp inhalation as Axe’s practiced fingers found and tweaked a sensor cluster. The black mech dropped a cheeky kiss on the side of his mate’s helm saying, “It’s only a matter of time.” This time he was ready for the buck of his mate’s hips and took advantage of the lack of leverage behind it, pressing down with his own hips and stopping the movement before it’d really started.

Dai Atlas’ optics flared as the failure illustrated further his near-complete incapacitation, evoking an instinctive surge of panic. He ruthlessly suppressed it, obliterating the effects of his fear as completely as he could, as he’d done so many times on the eve of a battle. This was _Axe_ , and he trusted Axe with his spark and more. That didn’t mean he had to  _like_  this, however much he needed it. Not right now, at least. “Stop  _teasing_  me, Axe. Just get on with it.”

In reply, Axe stilled, his blue optics meeting his mate’s red ones, and said seriously, “No. You need this, Dai. You can’t control everything.” The statement applied to more than Dai Atlas’ lack of control over this coupling, and both of them were well aware of it. The blue triplechanger broke optic contact, not yet willing to believe it. To distract himself more than anything, he rolled his hips beneath Axe’s, seeking the pleasure of their interface panels grinding together.

He wanted to touch, wanted some semblance of an active role in this. Instead, he was subject to Axe’s touches across his frame: the light, teasing ones across the flat planes of his wings, the tweaking and tugging on hidden wiring through seams in his heavy armor. Axe’s dentae suddenly fastened on a thin cable in his neck, and Dai Atlas was distracted for long enough to not notice one of Axe’s hands suspiciously absent--until it landed on his interface panel.

Growling again, this time in approval, he pressed into the touch, the heat in his systems slowly growing. He  _wanted_  Axe--he always did--but it wasn’t  _need_ , yet, not anything close to the level Axe would press him into before Dai Atlas would give in. Before he’d surrender.

Still, as Axe let go of his wings, left his neck with a final swipe of his glossa across the cabling, and slithered down Dai Atlas’ frame, he could feel an anticipatory flood of heat through his systems. He might not _need_ Axe yet, but that was very much subject to change. When his mate tapped at the panel and commanded him to open it, the blue triplechanger looked down challengingly and replied, “Make me.” He might want it, but he wasn’t going to give in that easily, not when it was the only semblance of control he had here.

Well, Axe certainly wasn’t going to back down from that--especially when he intended to have his mate writhing, gasping, pleading before the end of the night. “Since you asked so nicely…” With a cheeky, infuriating grin, he bent his helm to Dai Atlas’ pelvic plating, maintaining optic contact as he flicked his glossa against the panel’s seams. The first touch didn’t evoke a reaction, but Axe hadn’t expected it to; he knew his mate had better self-control than that. He bent to his task, pushing the larger mech’s thighs further apart as he ran his glossa along the blue armor. He knew all the sensitive spots, all the places where the armor was thinner and more sensor-laden, where all the delicate clusters of wires were, and he used every bit of knowledge to his advantage. His hands were equally occupied, seeking out similarly-sensitive places on the white armor of Dai Atlas’ inner thighs.

It wasn’t a fast progression by any means, but slowly the larger mech began to succumb to his partner’s gently arousing touches. Heat was rising, accumulating in his systems, and tension was growing in the motor cabling in his thighs, his arms, his torso. There was a bit of slack in the bindings around his ankles, and he took advantage of that, lifting his hips into the touch and sliding a foot as far along Axe’s calf as he could. Futile though it might have been, he still couldn’t help but tug at the restraints holding his wrists in place. He wanted to move. He wanted to  _touch_ , to do something,  _anything_.

“ _Axe, please,_ ” he grit out, the want clear in his voice. At the sound, Axe lifted his helm from the panel, now glistening with lubricant, and looked up with a smirk, very obviously pleased with himself thus far. “Yes?” he asked innocently.

Dai Atlas growled, bucking his hips again. “You  _know_  what I want,” he rumbled in response, tugging at his restraints to illustrate, as if Axe hadn’t gotten the message yet. But Axe, contrarily, just smirked and lowered his helm again to the blue plating. Dai Atlas knew what  _he_  wanted, too, and Axe was the one in control here. Dai Atlas could growl, yes, and he could  _try_  to free himself, but Axe would get what he wanted--eventually.

The black triplechanger just pressed the blue hips down, holding them still while he worked his glossa along the joins between plates, or wrapped it around clusters of wiring. He could feel the strained, jerky movements of his mate’s struggling. The blue mech wasn’t getting anywhere, but he couldn’t help but try, and Axe smiled against his panel. He could tell when his mate was getting frustrated, when his stubbornness was just on the verge of failing him.

As Axe’s glossa pressed against a node he knew to be sensitive, he heard his mate give a strangled, frustrated groan and then,  _finally_ , the click of his panel unlatching, followed by the quieter sounds of metal on metal as the internal covers irised open. He grinned, leaving the node with a last lick, and pushed the panel back before sliding up his mate’s body again. “Not so hard, was it, Dai?” he asked, before meeting the other mech’s lips in a kiss. When they parted, Axe nipped his lower lip impertinently, chuckling at Dai Atlas’ growl.

Axe retreated to kneel between his mate’s legs, content to simply enjoy the view for a minute. With the interface panel pushed aside and both the spike and valve covers retracted, everything was laid bare to him. The thick, long spike that Axe so loved to feel inside him was jutting forward, silently begging for attention it likely wouldn’t be getting; the valve below it was glistening with lubricant even now, and today,  _that_  was Axe’s target.

Normally, it was Axe whose valve was filled by his partner--their sizes differed enough that the feeling of his mate’s larger spike stretching his valve was _intensely_  pleasurable, and that combined with Dai Atlas’ greater tendency to dominate led to a natural conclusion, one which both of them relished greatly. But sometimes, when the stress became too much, Dai Atlas needed this, needed to be dominated, needed to be shown that he  _couldn’t_  control everything. And Axe didn’t find that he minded much.

Not with this kind of display before him. His own systems were heating up at the sight. There was a slight trickle of lubricant slowly making its way downward from the rim, and he could see it arrhythmically clenching as the blue mech struggled against his restraints. The knowledge that Dai Atlas was aroused for  _him_ , that  _he’d_  done this, and that  _he’d_  be taking his mate later was incredibly arousing.

He leaned forward again, situating himself between the white thighs, licking up the trail of lubricant. Sweeping his glossa around the rim, he slowly began to flick it along the mesh lining inside, feeling the calipers flutter around it. While he might not have quite the same amount of experience with the blue mech’s valve as he did with the rest of his frame, he still knew exactly where his attention was best spent, and no sensor node was neglected.

Dai Atlas found himself pulling less and less against the restraints on his arms, and more and more on those on his legs, gradually becoming less focused on  _touching_  Axe than on getting that glossa deeper inside him. He wasn’t much of a valve mech, but in this instance--well, it was difficult to justify doing anything other than pressing his hips against Axe’s face. Charge was rising with each node Axe’s glossa touched, and his higher processing power was fleeing along with what little control he’d had over himself. At the moment, with pleasure suffusing his interface array, he couldn’t really bring himself to be angry about the loss of his coherency.

But Axe... Axe was being  _infuriating_ , because the infernal mech  _stopped_. When Dai Atlas lifted his helm, looking down his frame to see why, he realized that his partner must have known--the black mech was staring up at him with the most insufferable grin. He groaned, letting his helm thunk back against the berth in frustration. “ _Axe_ …” he trailed off, a note of pleading in his voice. He wasn’t ready to beg, though.

“Yes, Dai?” Even Axe’s  _voice_  was teasing. Insufferable pitspawn. He shifted his hips in an instinctive attempt to regain that stimulation; Axe noticed but didn’t respond with anything more than a hand trailed along the top of one white thigh and a lilting statement. “You’re going to have to be more _specific_. I’m not quite sure what you want,” he said, a teasing smile spreading across his face.

Dai Atlas’ optics narrowed as he lifted his head to glare at his mate. “Stop. Teasing.” The effect of his glare was thoroughly ruined by his inability to hold still for any significant amount of time--as well as his glistening valve and the small but steadily-growing puddle of lubricant on the berth beneath him. Axe, not being one to pass up such an opportunity, swiped his glossa against the slick opening, prompting a hitched inhalation from the larger mech and a growl immediately following it.

“Try asking. Nicely,” Axe suggested in the cheeky tone he knew was only provoking his mate further. Rather than waiting for an answer, he lowered his helm once more to Dai Atlas’ pelvic plating, flicking his glossa over sensor nodes with barely perceptible pressure. The only response he received was a groan--until he stopped again. He chuckled at the sound of a helm hitting the berth and then a resigned sigh.

“Axe,  _please_. I  _need_  you,” came the slightly-strained reply. And, really, how could the smaller mech deny a request like that? Axe slid up Dai Atlas' body again, meeting his lips again. "I suppose that'll do," he said, his grin evident in his voice. As he spoke, he slipped a hand between the blue mech's legs, cupping his exposed interface array. He ran a finger along the rim of his mate's valve, then pressed it just inside, feeling the sensor-mesh lining slick with lubricant. He could feel it rippling around him and grinned smugly against his partner's lips, correctly assuming that it was an involuntary reaction. That Dai Atlas was already so out-of-control was incredibly arousing to him--he could feel heat rising through his own systems, and his spike surged in its housing.

Dai Atlas couldn't help but twitch into the touch, and Axe took that as a tacit request for more. At this rate, the larger mech would overload before he even felt a spike inside him. And that, in Axe's estimation, would be a travesty. His mouth had been engaged in a long kiss with his partner's, but he drew back to murmur, "Don't overload until I tell you to." To this, somewhat-expectedly, Dai Atlas responded with a disgruntled grumble, but Axe knew he'd obey. It turned out that military programming was useful in a variety of situations, Axe thought wryly.

Still, rather than tormenting him more than strictly necessary, Axe took the opportunity to slide a second finger into his mate's valve alongside the first, curling them  _just so_  against a sensor node. He nipped at a cable in the blue mech's shoulder as Dai Atlas tensed, arching into the flare of stimulation spreading from his valve through the rest of his systems and letting out a quiet, strangled moan at the contrasting sharp bite of sensation--pain blurred into pleasure--in his shoulder. Axe knew he'd meant to suppress it and chuckled, then flexed his fingers again, making a satisfied noise when it elicited a similar reaction.

He crooked his fingers a third time, swallowing the larger mech's noises of pleasure with a kiss before finally relenting and beginning to slowly scissor his fingers. "I think I like you like this," he said a long minute later as he added a third finger, spreading them gently within the slick, fluttering valve. "But," and here he paused to lightly kiss the side of the blue helm, "I'm still waiting for you to let go." In emphasis, his fingers curved against another cluster of sensor nodes.

In answer, Dai Atlas let out a strangled whine and tilted his hips into the fingers, spreading his legs as much as he could, given the restraints. Still, though, this wasn't yet the surrender that Axe wanted, no,  _needed_  to see in his mate. Right now, the blue mech simply wanted an overload, and had been driven to a point where he didn't care how Axe gave it to him. True surrender, a true ceding of control--for that, they still had a distance to go.

But the smaller mech was just as stubborn as his larger partner, and it was only a matter of time. Until then, Axe would take advantage of every bit of leverage Dai Atlas gave him. He gave his fingers a twist in the slick valve, then said in a low, teasing voice, “Your  _valve_ is ready for me, but are  _you_ , Dai?” When the blue mech replied with a sharp bite at the side of Axe’s helm and a buck of his hips, he chuckled. “I’ll take that as a resounding ‘yes’, then.”

He levered himself off of his partner’s chassis, and after gently removing his fingers from his mate’s valve, he held them to the blue mech’s lips with an order to lick them clean. While Dai Atlas glared ineffectually for a few seconds, he eventually opened his mouth, extending his glossa to lap his own fluids from his mate’s fingers; when they were finally clean, Axe shifted his hand to the silver cheek, rubbing a thumb across the mouth set in stubbornness and impatience. “You’re just making this harder on yourself, you know,” he sighed in fond exasperation. One of his mate’s best and worst qualities was that infernal stubbornness.

He held his mate’s optics for a long second before dropping both hands to the blue hips. Lining up his own hips, he slowly, so slowly began to press inside. The sensation was incredible. Axe’s spike might have been slightly too small for a frame of Dai Atlas’ size, but the larger mech made use of his valve so infrequently that he was incredibly tight; when the head of his spike slipped past the slick rim of the valve, Axe only just held back his groan of sheer pleasure, and his less self-aware mate failed miserably--the blue mech released a moan that resonated through both their frames.

And that was with just the head inside. Axe thought he could get used to this--the tight, slick grasp of Dai Atlas’ valve, the calipers fluttering around him as it tried to adjust; it was nearly overwhelming. He kept a firm grasp on the blue hips as he slowly pressed in further, and this time he didn't stop until he was fully sheathed in his mate's valve, the slow penetration setting sensor nodes alight one by one. It was almost agonizing--for them both--and was made worse by the tension still held in Dai Atlas' frame.  The mech simply _didn't submit_ , not like this. Equality in other areas was normal, but with Axe, like this? His lover would have to drive him to desperation first, and he could only be glad that they were well on their way toward that point.

For Axe, the heat and pressure were exquisite, and he knew well the pleasurable burn of penetration. If he could extend that to his mate, express in a language more primal than words that  _this_ was okay, that  _submission_ was okay, that he didn't have to be in  _control_ all the time--well... Well, Axe's own thought process was a bit muddled at the moment, processor hazy with pleasure, but he thought Dai Atlas would like it. And with that remarkably well-formed thought, Axe began to move, starting with slow, shallow thrusts, hands starting out where they'd been placed on the blue mech's hips. When Dai Atlas' legs came up as far as they could in the restraints, thighs pressing against Axe's, he found he didn't need the grip for leverage any more, and took that as permission for his hands to roam.

They sought out all the multitude of places where the smaller mech knew they'd find sensitive wiring and clusters of sensor nodes, manipulating each in turn. Some only wrung out a twitch, or perhaps a glare from the larger mech, but some got Axe a hitched ventilation, or even a moan. Those ones were given additional attention--a sharp tweak of wiring or a soft, delicate touch; each brought a flare of Dai Atlas' field, letting Axe feel his mounting arousal. He could feel his mate's charge building, especially when a thrust coincided with his manipulation of a sensor node, but it wasn't  _right_ yet. He needed his mate _desperate_ for release, wholly dependent on another for his needs.

He began to stagger his thrusts so that Dai Atlas wouldn't be able to predict them, wouldn't be able to arch up to meet them, could only react. It seemed a simple thing, but he could already feel the change in his bound lover's field--it surged into his own with  _irritation/want/impotency/need_  and met the resoluteness there. Miraculously, it subsided, having changed to resigned acceptance, with only an undercurrent of the turmoil it'd been in before. Axe rewarded Dai Atlas with a longer, more forceful thrust than before, feeling a surge of satisfaction when it provoked a moan.

He was rapidly coming to realize that the heat building in his own systems was approaching levels where it'd be difficult to deny. It was simply--well, it was incredible to see his mate underneath him like this, to see the normally-composed mech in this state, and to know that  _he'd_ been the one to bring him to this, and that he'd take him even further, given only a little time. The black mech pressed his fingers into transformation seams on Dai Atlas' sides, this time getting a twist of hips and a strangled moan for his efforts. He thrust in hard again, making it clear to the larger mech that this was what he  _wanted_ , that he wanted to see his reactions. That he didn't have to restrain himself, because he wasn't in control.  _Axe_ was taking responsibility for  _his_ pleasure, not the other way around.

Dai Atlas moaned louder this time, some of what Axe was trying to express being transferred via the contact of their fields. It had always been something he'd known intellectually, but _knowing_ something and  _believing_ it were two very different things. It was also something that, unfortunately, didn't seem to  _stick_ particularly well. These encounters of theirs weren't entirely uncommon, and while Axe certainly didn't mind getting to see his mate like this, he could do without them being _necessitated_. He slid his hands along his mate's internal wiring again, tweaking and pinching sensitive bits, just wanting to hear that moan again.

He did--and louder, because his spike had pressed against one of the highly-sensitive ceiling nodes. The noise vibrated through both of their frames, setting off a cascade of secondary vibrations, and Axe could feel the air grow a few degrees hotter between them, vents starting to shimmer with heat. The next surge of his spike into his mate's tight, slick valve was echoed by a surge of the blue mech's field, expressing what he no longer had the words for: his need, his desperation, an unspoken plea for Axe to just let him  _overload_. Axe, therefore, stopped. Again. A keen arose from his mate, the blue hips writhing, searching for more stimulation. Axe’s spike was deep inside his mate’s valve, their hips flush, and his hands had stilled, wrapped in his mate’s wiring.

Dai Atlas bucked beneath him, trying to muster the strength to do  _something_ , to break his bindings, to force Axe to just let him  _overload_. But he was securely pinned by his mate’s weight, and if he wanted something, well--Axe wasn’t actually entirely certain that Dai Atlas remembered what he’d need to do. “Dai...  _submit_. Just let  _go_ for me,” he murmured into his mate’s audial, his own voice audibly strained.

Dai Atlas growled weakly at the suggestion, but then, finally,  _finally--_ he surrendered. The tension visibly drained from his frame as he collapsed against the berth, legs falling fully open and helm lolling as far to the side as his crest would allow. RIght now, that was the only way the blue mech knew to signal that his frame was Axe’s, in every sense, for more than just to grant or deny release. If Axe wanted something of him, he would have it.

If this were anyone but Axe who’d bound him like this, who’d demanded this of him, Dai Atlas would have been terrified. But he’d known Axe for countless millennia, had been by his side before that for nearly as long, and trusted him implicitly. Axe knew him, knew his limits, and wouldn’t hurt him. Axe wouldn’t ask more than Dai Atlas was capable of giving. What Axe  _did_ ask of him would be pleasurable, he knew--and intensely so. Dai Atlas moaned incoherently at the half-formed, hazy thought, valve giving an instinctive ripple around Axe’s spike.

Axe responded with his own appreciative vocalization, running his hands up and down his mate’s sides before settling his grip on the blue hips. He allowed his optics to dim for a moment, thumbs rubbing slow circles on the black plating as he basked in the slick tightness of the valve stretched around him, and the heat of the frame below him. It was exquisite, and it was  _Dai Atlas_ \--it was his extremely dominant mate laid out for him. Axe knew exactly how hard this was for the blue mech, and that just made everything so much more intense.

With a strangled groan, Axe began to move. Dai Atlas’ body was lax and pliant beneath his, and arched up fluidly and instinctively as Axe’s spike slid across his already-sensitized sensor nodes. He wasn’t hiding a single reaction; Axe doubted he had the mental capacity to do so at the moment. This...  _this_ is what Axe had wanted, what Dai Atlas had needed--a total release of self-consciousness, the ability to let go completely and entirely.

The black mech adopted a slow, steady, rhythm, gently pressing into and withdrawing from his mate’s valve, listening to every mindless noise of pleasure the blue mech produced. They were absolutely intoxicating, each little groan or whine eliciting a surge of heat through Axe’s systems. He wasn’t going to last long now, not after everything that had led up to this point. But he’d be damned if he overloaded before his lover, and he thrust gradually more forcefully into the slick valve.

He knew exactly where each cluster of nodes was and he used that knowledge to his advantage, angling his thrusts so that the ridges of his spike passed over them repeatedly. His efforts wrung desperate cries from his mate, who was arching wantonly into each thrust. The sight alone was incredible. Axe let out an impassioned groan in response, his thrusts picking up speed. His arms began to give out, and he fell forward, supporting himself with only his elbows, his helm dropping to rest on Dai Atlas’ chest.

Dai Atlas was similarly affected--he moaned with each thrust, writhing under Axe’s frame, hands attempting to rise to clutch the black mech’s forearms in a futile effort to ground himself. But they were bound, and he couldn't; he let out a strangled whine instead. His valve fluttered and spasmed around Axe’s spike with each forceful thrust--he’d been aroused for  _hours_ , and he was so close. So  _close_. The air around him shimmered with the heat his systems were producing, fans unable to circulate cool air because there  _was_ none. All he needed now was Axe’s permission.

And then Axe angled his hips _just so,_  spike pressing against a cluster of sensor nodes deep within his valve, and Dai Atlas came undone. “ _Axe_ ,” he moaned, writhing in his bonds. He _needed_ to overload, needed it so  _badly_. He couldn’t find the words for what he wanted, insensate as he was. Mercifully, Axe knew, and knew he’d driven his mate past the point of coherent speech. “ _Overload_  for me, Dai.”

And, permission finally granted, bliss seared through his systems, blue electricity licking and crackling over plating as he overloaded with a loud moan, helm falling back, mouth opening wide, valve spasming erratically before clamping down hard on the spike within it only to relax the next second. It was incredible--his entire frame was alive with pleasure, and his EM field surged into Axe’s, flooding his mate with the pleasure currently overwhelming his systems.

Axe pressed his face into Dai Atlas’ exposed neck, moaning wantonly as his mate howled out his overload, his hips stuttering wildly as he chased the overload he could finally allow himself. The shared pleasure from his mate’s overload was just barely not quite enough to push him over the edge, but it was only a few more fast thrusts before Axe, too, reached his peak. He latched onto a thick neck cable, dentae bearing down as he thrust one final time, pressing his spike as deeply into the slick valve as it could possibly go, grinding their pelvises together. A hot rush of transfluid jetted from his spike, flooding Dai Atlas’ valve and prompting another impassioned groan.

Dai Atlas collapsed as his overload passed, collapsing satedly back to the berth; Axe did the same only moments afterward. He kept his spike in his mate’s valve, but readjusted himself so that he was comfortably draped over the larger mech, pressing an affectionate kiss to his mate’s neck as he did so.

“Trust me to take care of you when you need it, Dai,” he murmured as their plating popped and ticked, slowly cooling. He reached up to unfasten the restraints, then wrapped an arm around his larger mate. “It’s okay to let someone else be the strong one every so often,” he said with a wry, exhausted smile. He got only an assenting grunt in response, but that was more than he’d expected. Axe didn’t doubt that there’d be a similar fight the next time Dai Atlas was overwhelmed, but for now... For now he was content, because Dai Atlas was.

He smiled into his mate’s plating, releasing a fond sigh. Dai Atlas might be an old, stubborn aft more often than not, but he was Axe’s mate. It was worth the effort to beat something into the mech’s head, especially if it was a lesson like this one. He could definitely deal with a repeat, although he could do without the cause. He craned up, pulling his mate’s helm down for a last kiss, then subsided, offlining his optics and whispering, “Recharge. I’ll be here in the morning.”


End file.
